The World of Truth and Death
by dangerousdame
Summary: Based on an old Jewish folktale, a story of monsters, murder, and mystery.
1. Chapter 1

_Note: This story is based on the Jewish legend of the Golem, which was one of the inspirations for Frankenstein._

I didn't mean to kill the boy. I could tell them that.

I could inform the mob surrounding the Jewish Quarter that they are mistaken. That I am the one they should be looking for. I could play the hero and throw myself to the mob, if only they will spare the innocent.

I could do that. But why bother?

I thought all this as the mob headed toward the ghetto. I did not know the people, but they seemed familiar to me nonetheless- after a while, all angry mobs are the same. The pitchforks, the torches, the curses shouted at the intended victims- I had seen and heard it all before.

And as I saw them assemble, I realized how much I hated them. My feelings had gone beyond fear or indifference or even rage. Despite the fact that I was not their target, I felt as if they were the same crowd that had hounded me since my creation, and I wanted to tear them apart. As I saw them come down the road, I stood in front of the ghetto, ready to die, if only to destroy them.

But they never reached me. They stopped in their tracks as soon as they saw me, pointing and shouting. They ran away, and I felt rather puzzled.

I had frightened people away before, but this mob had been too far away to see that I was hideous. My confusion increased as the doors to the Jewish Quarter were thrown open, and the villagers gathered around me, not in fear, but in awe.

"The Golem has returned!" they shouted, and led me inside.


	2. Chapter 2

_Note: For those few who are familiar with the legend of the Golem (or have seen the movie), I know that it took place long before Frankenstein. However, being the author, I have power over the time-space continuum._

The crowd brought me to the center of town. They kept on chanting- "The Golem has returned!"

The town rabbi came out to meet me. He was a young man, but aging fast. He took one look at me and hurried me into the synagogue, locking the doors behind us.

"Would you kindly tell me what is going on?" I shouted at him.

He staggered back at the sound of my voice, as though he had heard the voice of God. He tentatively took a closer look at me.

"No", he said, "you aren't the same one."

"The same what?"

""Golem."

I reached out and grabbed the man by the throat.

"Explain."

The rabbi gasped for breath, and I put him down. Rubbing his throat, he began to speak.

"Some years ago, when I was still a student, our former rabbi made a monster to protect us from the local peasants. It was a giant man, made from clay and brought to life by magic."

"What happened to him?"

"He went crazy, killing indiscriminately, and we were forced to destroy him. But having seen one, we recognized another."

He looked up at me.

"Except for one thing- speech. The Golem was mute, since only God can bestow the breath of life that gives humans the power to speak. That's what separated him from us."

He looked at me with a mixture of fear and awe.

"What are you?"

"I've been asking myself that for as long as I can remember. I am a man, made from the corpses of criminals, and brought to life by electricity."

"Who made you?"

"Victor Frankenstein."

The Jew seemed to be musing on something.

"Frankenstein. I think I remember him. He studied the mystic arts here many years ago."

He paced the floor.

"Perhaps he learned from our last rabbi the secret of artificial life. But if that is the case, why is it that you can talk? Unless..."

"Unless what?"

"Unless young Frankenstein achieved the power of God."


	3. Chapter 3

Clay.

It's found in great amounts by the water. I held a wet lump in my hands and let it sift through my fingers.

Victor refused to make me a mate. But if his wasn't the only wasn't the only way...

No. I had spoken with the rabbi, and the Golem was a mindless hulk, incapable even of speech. And the last one went crazy, and had to be destroyed.

The Jewish community had accepted me, thinking I was their former protector. Few of them even realize what happened to the real one, and that if I had been him, it would have been cause for concern.

Only a few of the villages smarter residents realized that I was not the same creature. They noticed my speech and my scars, and they kept their distance. But I did little to dispel the beliefs of the gullible- both the rabbi and I had agreed that it would be better for all concerned if we let them think that I was the Golem.

But I didn't believe for a moment what the rabbi said about Frankenstein. The power of God? His science may have been more advanced, but that's all it was- science.

As I held the clay in my hand, I wondered what the Golem had done to warrant its destruction. Killing? I had done my share of that. Insanity? Who wouldn't go insane under his conditions?

I held the clay, and let what could have been me slip through my fingers.


	4. Chapter 4

As I write these words, I look back in amazement at my naivete. How long did I truly think I could have dragged out my charade? But I never stopped to think about it, too busy enjoying life in a place where I was treated with a certain degree of acceptance. I only realized the dangerous position I had put myself in when a little boy came up to me by the river one day.

"Sir?" he asked me nervously.

"Yes?"

"How did you manage to return from the dead?"

I was silent, and the little boy continued.

"The rabbi destroyed you some time ago. I remember my parents talking about it. How is it that you have now returned to us?"

I shook my head and laughed.

"Little boy, you may be the only one in this whole village who has noticed that."

"I think I understand why, though. At least, I have an idea."

"Well?"

"I think you're an angel."

I did not know whether to laugh or cry at this.

"An angel? Why would I be an angel? Why not a devil?"

"Because you protect us- a devil would have let us die."

He looked up at me fearfully.

"Was I wrong?"

"Who am I to say."

I began to walk away, but the little boy followed me.

"You know, I'm not the only one who thinks this about you. There are many in the ghetto who think you may have been sent from God."

But I wasn't listening to him. I had to find the rabbi. I had an idea why he had killed the last Golem.


	5. Chapter 5

The rabbi sank into a chair, his head in his hands.

"Why?", he moaned. "Why did you come here?"

I stood in front of him, impassive.

"What gave you the right to destroy a life you yourself created?", I demanded of him.

It was a foolish thing to say. I knew exactly what the Golem was, and it was an empty machine. I didn't really pity it any more then I would have pitied a broken down clock thrown on the garbage heap. It was my own fate that concerned me.

The rabbi could see this. He laughed at me- a hollow, mirthless laugh.

"Are you really worried that I'm going to kill you? Even if I wanted to, I'd like to know how."

"You killed the Golem."

The rabbi emitted another bitter laugh. He took out a piece of paper and wrote three symbols on it.

"Creature, you cannot read Hebrew, so I will explain this to you. These three letters are Aleph, Mem, and Taf. Together they spell the word Emet- truth."

He scratched out one of the symbols, which looked like a crooked X.

"Without this letter, the word is Met- death. All three of these letters were carved on the Golem's forehead, bringing it to life. When he had to be destroyed, the word for truth was changed to that of death, and it crumbled."

"Why? Why did you murder him?"

The rabbi's first impulse seemed to have been to shout, but he restrained himself. Instead, he lowered his voice and whispered to me:

"You have a fine right to call me a murderer."

I had no response.


	6. Chapter 6

"Someone's coming!"

The villagers ran to the gates. A stranger's arrival to the ghetto was usually an ill omen, and I believe I heard some women mutter prayers beneath their breath. Somehow I knew who the mysterious visitor was- I had wondered how long it would take him to find me.

"It's me he wants. He won't harm any of you if you keep back."

"Should we open the gate?" a man asked me.

"He's of no danger to you."

The gate creaked open. My creator stood outside, but came in when the townspeople moved aside. He looked much older than when I had last seen him- no longer a callow young man, but a weary, middle aged wanderer.

"You haven't aged well, Frankenstein."

"I must speak with you."

I suppose that I was a bit surprised to hear him say this (I would have expected it to be more along the lines of "I would like to tear you limb from limb"), but I did not show it. I ushered him in to one of the villagers's huts (I assumed that he wouldn't argue with a man twice his size).

"Now, Frankenstein. You wish to destroy me."

He actually laughed at this! It was a tired, mirthless laugh, but still a laugh.

"Destroy you?"

"Why else would you have come here, the one place I have ever belonged, if not to rip me apart? It couldn't be to apologize?"

"I don't think either of us are humble enough to admit that the other was right. And yes, my mission did start out to destroy you. But I have lost everything I have to live for- if I killed you, any purpose left in my life would be gone."

He sighed, and put his head in his hands.

"You know, you never were good for relieving my...tension."

I looked at the poor, broken man sitting in front of me. It wasn't ironic, exactly, but it was appropriate that we should end up this way.

"If you do not wish to end my life, then why have you followed me here?"

"To protect others from you."

"I would never harm the people of the ghetto."

"No, but I've seen you in your rages."

"Even the Rabbi has seen another creature like me. They understand what I am."

Frankenstein gave another mirthless laugh.

"You think so? It might interest you to know something."

He stood up and looked me in the eye.

"The Golem was a fake."


	7. Chapter 7

_Note: What is presented here is one of a number of modern explanations for the Golem. It's not a popular one, but I felt it lent itself well to my story._

"The Golem", Frankenstein continued, "was an experiment that failed. The rabbis had some of the right notions- and indeed, I did learn many secrets from them- but they relied too heavily on superstition. And when their myths failed them, they needed something to show the villagers, something to prove their work had been a success.

"And so they found for themselves a criminal- a large man, a brute- and hired him as the village guardian. He was not allowed to speak, for fear that he would reveal his human nature. But when some of the townspeople began to believe that he was their savior- that the messiah had finally come- he had to be killed. Disillusioned, I decided to seek my answers through less mystical venues. "

I stood up and grabbed him by the shoulders.

"You're lying! You would hate to see me anyplace where I could be accepted. You sought me out in order to destroy me! You monster!"

"Aren't we being just a bit self-righteous? You know, you like to think of yourself as a martyr, but how many innocent people have died because of you? Why should I follow you here if not to protect any more from coming to a similar fate?"

He wrenched himself free from my hands and glared at me.

"Sooner or later, you know, they'll have to get rid of you, too. It's not you I'm worried about- I think you can handle a few weak humans- but I fear that in your retaliation this whole ghetto may go up in flames."

I looked down at my creator.

"I think you and I both should pay the rabbi a visit."


	8. Chapter 8

**The Rabbi's Story**

"I suppose you are right- I do owe you an explanation. But I can only tell you what I know- and, I admit, that is not a great deal. You see, I was only a student when the Golem was created.

"I admit that I was jealous of you, Frankenstein. A non-Jew, an outsider, getting a chance to work with the head of the community while I was told to return to my studies. But despite my exclusion, I began to quietly research all I could on the legend of the Golem.

"I suppose that the two of you now know as much as I did on the subject, except for one crucial thing. The Golem was less then a man, though more then an inanimate object. You could kill it without damaging your soul. It was mute- possibly mindless, but even if it wasn't, there would be no way for it to express itself. I read of Golems going out of control, randomly killing their creators, laying waste to their villages. It was unknown why they did this, but I had a suspicion.

"And so I did what I foolishly thought was the right thing. I sabotaged the experiment. I do not mean that I did anything to the construct itself, but on the night when I knew they would go to work, I stayed up in my room. I gathered all the holy objects I could find, chanted all the blessings, and prayed. I prayed that they would not be able to create the Golem, that if the attack came which the creature was being built to prevent, that we would be given the strength and power to rise up and defend ourselves.

"At the time, I thought that this was why the project failed, but now I am less certain. It is more likely that the Golem was simply a figure of myth and folklore that it was impossible to truly create. But as a young man, I thought that the Lord had overheard my prayers and destroyed the attempt to create an inhuman being.

"But they produced a hulking thug to protect the village somehow, and I will have to take the good Doctor's word that he was a criminal hired from a neighboring town. I suppose it was for the best- despite my naive hopes at the time, we would have been massacred otherwise. It had happened before, in other ghettos. And you, Frankenstein, disappeared from town, and I never thought I would see you again.

"Now I am older and less innocent. I lead the community in faith, although they feel less connected to me then they did to my predecessor. For better or for worse, I lack his conviction, his resolve.

"And now the two of you come to me looking for someone to blame. Well, my people have born the brunt of anger before. I can handle it. But what about you?

"Neither one of you are innocent victims. Frankenstein, I do not believe that you are an evil man, but I do believe that you are a fool. There is a legend of a man who ignored all of his sins until they came together to form a monster. I'll let you figure out the symbolism of this yourself.

"And you, our new Golem. I'll grant to you that you have not been given a fair chance in the world. Your face and body frighten those who see you, and that would be enough to make any man break. But even though it is not your fault, you have been filled with hate your whole life, and I do not blame your maker for thinking of you as dangerous.

"The two of you may stay here if you wish- you have, after all, protected our town- but I expect you to settle your problems by yourselves. This is too deep for me to step into, and perhaps that reflects badly on me. But by tomorrow, if either of you have chosen to stay, I trust that you will prove of more benefit then harm."


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: Sorry for the long wait, but this year has been really busy for me._

Victor Frankenstein left town the following morning. I don't believe I had ever seen someone look as tired as he did. His eyes were dead, his face drawn. He was a man who had lost his purpose in life, and as he walked away, I sensed...something else. Regret, perhaps? Could he have been sorry for what he had done? I suppose I shall never truly know the answer.

I stayed, existing in a manner not entirely different than before. The only thing that had changed was the way I looked at the villagers. They had once been simply a people to be protected, but now they were fools in my eyes. Victims of a fraud so detectable it was astonishing so few had seen through it. They were not like me, and they never would be.

And so my time was now spent with the Rabbi's books. Ancient things filled with mystical nonsense, interspersed with accidental facts. Myths of a creature that could be created from clay, given the breath of God, with the word for truth carved on his forehead.

Spiritual fables. A theoretical device used as a platform for scholars to discuss what was and wasn't human. I do know that, and I will be most likely wasting my time tonight.

But even so...

The Rabbi begs me not to go through with it. He says that even if it works (which it may not, since I am not a holy man, I will be bringing only sorrow and death. He pleads with me to remember Victor Frankenstein and the toll his work took on him.

It is a risk I will take.

For tonight, having gathered the rabbis books and sufficient clay from the river, I may end my loneliness. Tonight, I will make a Golem.

_The End_


End file.
